


Leave the Hat On

by HawkSong



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:35:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23750944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkSong/pseuds/HawkSong
Summary: In which Haurchefant collects a little thank-you from Francel, after the incident at Witchdrop.
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Francel de Haillenarte
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Leave the Hat On

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble takes place kind of just after the first chapter of my larger work "Aren't You Cold."

Another cold Coerthas night. Lord Francel sighed a little, and closed the shutters, making sure the latch was secure this time. Then he shut the windows and drew both sets of thick curtains over the window. It made the room rather stuffy, but better that than allow the floors to get chilled, as they surely would if he didn't take such precautions.

Besides which, with the window shut that way, he could sleep the way he preferred – mostly nude. Only on the very coldest of nights could he make himself tolerate clothes in bed – being the restless sleeper he was, anything beyond small-clothes tended to bunch up, bind, and otherwise torment him.

Back home, he had never had to worry about such things. House Haillenarte might not be the most prosperous of the High Houses nowadays, but their manor had been built with an eye to hundreds of years of comfort, and had always been kept up with – ensuring that the family was well housed and well fed had never fallen in priority for the heads of their House, even in the difficult times after the Calamity. His room in the manor there was small – not much bigger than this drafty room in this gods-forsaken tower, really. But it was so much more snug, and had windows that fit so well you couldn't fit a piece of paper between the frame and the stones...and they had even added radiators two years ago, to every bedroom in the place. It was cozy and warm there even in the depths of winter.

He sighed as he started to undress, slipping his boots off and setting his hat on the wooden form that took up most of his modest nightstand. He liked having his hat there rather than on the hook near the door, and of all his little oddments from home, the hat form was at least small enough to transport. Not like his orchestrion or, gods knew, his private collection of books.

Gods, but he missed home. This posting was a polite fiction – but it got him out of the city and away from...trouble. His fingers fumbled on the horn buttons of his shirt, and he took a deep breath and tried again. He kept having to remind himself, even after all these weeks of being out here, that he wasn't in danger. Ser Charibert wouldn't bother coming all this way just to torment him.

Not that others hadn't found reasons to torment him as well, but the inquisitor's nonsense had – mostly – not been so hard to handle. Not like the look in Charibert's eyes in those nightmarish hours that the knight had...

Francel took a very long, slow breath, widening his eyes deliberately to force the memory away. The small scar on his left shoulder twinged as he straightened. The fresh bruises on his ribs also gave a flash of pain, and finished the job of dispelling the haunting vision of the Heavens' Ward knight's cruel smile.

It was all over now, he reminded himself. That incredibly tall sell-sword woman had saved him at the last, and Lord Haurchefant had rescued his reputation, proving not only Francel's own innocence but scrubbing away all implications that House Haillenarte had ever been guilty of heresy. There was no one after him, now.

There was a tap on his chamber door.

He looked up, heart racing. Who could be here at this time of night?

He got up, and cautiously unlocked his door, opening it a mere crack to look through.

Silver hair and a warm smile greeted his wary glance.

“Hello, dear friend,” Lord Haurchefant all but purred at him.

Francel opened his door and let the older man in, trying not to fidget. As Haurchefant stepped past him, the scent of him wafted to Francel's nostrils, and he felt his cheeks warming a little. Haurchefant smelled of snow, and something primal, something that caused his whole body to react in a most disconcerting way. What was it about the silver haired knight that made his knees go weak? He'd never thought of himself as preferring men, but Haurchefant had such an effect on him that it made him wonder a lot of things he'd never thought of before.

To be honest, he'd entertained incredibly shameful fantasies about the man ever since he'd arrived in Coerthas. He'd almost chalk it up to the isolation and the long, cold nights.

But now, Haurchefant was _here_. Why?

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked the question as he was closing the door, not daring to look directly at the other lord.

“Well, I was in the area,” Haurchefant answered. Francel turned to find the tall knight running a finger along the brilliantly yellow feather in Francel's favorite hat. “And I recalled that you'd said you didn't have the words to express your gratitude.”

“Ah?” Francel blinked at him, a little lost.

Those silver eyes slid toward him, and Haurchefant's smile was wicked. “Sometimes, I find, actions do the job rather better than words.”

Did Haurchefant want him to do some sort of favor? Francel's brow crinkled a little. “I would, ah, be happy to do whatever I can, Lord Haurchefant,” he started to say.

But the words died in his throat as Haurchefant suddenly turned, and came right up to him.

Francel's back was against the door. Haurchefant's hands were on either side of him. His silver hair brushed delicately across Francel's cheek as the taller man leaned in just a little to whisper in his ear.

“Would you be happy to do me, then?”

Francel's breath stopped. His whole body felt paralyzed – except for his manhood, which sprang to sudden and insistent alertness, so much so that it ached.

“I...ah...” He dragged in a lungful of air, and tried again. “I wasn't – ah – expecting...”

“Forgive me,” Haurchefant breathed, his warm hot against Francel's ear. “I am too forward, perhaps. But I also find myself in great need of...companionship, this night.”

Francel shifted, trying to meet Haurchefant's eyes. “Are you quite serious, my lord?”

“Oh yes.” Haurchefant lifted one hand and gently caressed Francel's ginger hair. “Such a lovely color,” he murmured, eyes partly unfocused. “I've always had quite the weakness for redheads, you know.”

Francel gulped. “You have?”

The wicked smile was back as silver eyes met green. “In very deed.” He began to press himself closer, but halted as Francel hissed.

“Your armor,” Francel managed. “It's bloody freezing, Haurchefant.”

To his amazement, Haurchefant blushed, and backed up a few steps. “Sorry.”

But he wasted no time, and shed the hauberk and mail in moments, while Francel remained at the door, rooted to the spot, staring.

“Do you like what you see?” Haurchefant asked, flirtatiously, and Francel found himself nodding. Haurchefant grinned and came back to lean against the door once more.

Francel looked up into those silver eyes, and swallowed hard again. “I hope you realize,” he told the older man, “I've never...um.”

“Do you object?”

“No.” Suddenly the shameful fantasies seemed completely inevitable. “No. I've been thinking about it...for a while.”

“How very flattering.” Haurchefant leaned in close, closer, until his bare chest was brushing Francel's, and his mouth was near Francel's ear. “What sort of thoughts have you been having, my lord? Tell me.”

Francel felt his face flaming. “What sort of...? Ah, well, I...” His hands came up, settling on Haurchefant's waist, nervously plucking at the edge of his belt. “About...your hair. And, and your mouth...” His voice dropped to a whisper. He couldn't believe he was really saying these things, but somehow the words just left him.

“Your skin...” He traced a tiny circle along Haurchefant's side with one hand. “It's...soft.”

“Is it pleasant?” Haurchefant's whisper made Francel shiver all over.

“Yes. More than I thought it would be,” and again the redheaded lord wondered what sort of madness possessed him to be so honest.

“Taste of it,” Haurchefant told him.

“What?”

“Go on,” the silver haired lord urged, lifting one hand and curling it around the back of Francel's neck. “I want to feel your mouth on my skin, Francel. It's all right, you won't hurt me, after all.”

Gulping, Francel let Haurchefant press him close, and laid his lips against the bare shoulder presented to him. He kissed the velvety skin there, feeling the irregularity of a small scar under the flesh of his lips. Then he opened his mouth, a tiny bit, and darted his tongue out, tasting delicately as he would taste of a rare confection.

Haurchefant grunted softly. “Do it again. Explore.”

Francel's breath huffed out of him, and something in him let go. His hands came up, and he stroked his palms across Haurchefant's back as he kissed from the point of the shoulder along the collarbone, to the strong, sculpted neck. Haurchefant bent his knees just a trifle, lowering himself enough to bring that tantalizing target in range of Francel's questing lips. His fingers massaged Francel's neck, even as his other hand slipped away from the door and down to cup Francel's hip and buttock, pressing him close.

Francel shivered at that touch, and widened his eyes, staring at the silver hair that slithered away along Haurchefant's back. His teeth sank into the muscle between shoulder and neck as he clutched Haurchefant tightly, a spasm of mingled fear and lust.

Haurchefant groaned softly, and Francel's manhood twitched hard against the hard-muscled thigh. But in his head, a cruel chuckle echoed out his memory.

Abruptly Francel let go, pushing himself back against the door, pulling his arms in to hug himself tightly. “Shit,” he muttered, digging his nails into his own sides, trying to drive away the specters in his head.

“What is it?” Haurchefant asked. “Did I hurt you?” Francel shook his head, unable to speak.

The silver haired knight tugged at Francel's shoulders. “Talk to me.”

“It's n-n-nothing.” Francel's teeth were clenched. Crescents of sharp pain blossomed under his fingernails. He wanted the pain, wanted to know he was doing it to himself, wanted to drive away the cursed memories that haunted him. For a moment he was alone, in a dark room...

No! No, damn it!

Haurchefant shook him. “Francel, what's wrong?”

“N-not you.” The redheaded lord swallowed hard. “Not you. Just...give me...a moment more.”

“Come, let's sit.” Slowly Haurchefant led Francel to the bed, one step at a time, until they were sitting on the bed, thighs touching.

Haurchefant put his arm around the younger man and held him close. “Talk,” he commanded.

And so Francel spoke, in halting whispers.

“It was last year.” His eyes stayed on the floor, his arms tightly pressed to his sides. “I got...into some trouble. I don't...remember why, but...it was Ser Charibert, and he...he...”

Haurchefant swore softly. “Aye. I know his hobby.”

“It was only...once...but I don't know...how long.”

“Can't have been long, or even I would have heard about it. Though it does explain why your big sister was sent off to Cloudtop so precipitously.”

“...what?”

Haurchefant tugged at Francel's hands. “Here. I'm better to hold. You're freezing.”

“I'm...fine.” But Francel was glad enough to wrap his arms around Haurchefant and let himself be held. “What are you talking about, Haurchefant?”

“Your sister? Don't you already know?”

“I know about her posting, what are you talking about, _explaining_ it?”

“She would likely have threatened to kill the man,” Haurchefant answered in a matter of fact way. “She does have quite the temper at times, and she would have said it out loud, where your father could hear her. Leaving him no choice, don't you see?”

“I thought it was because of me.”

“Well, in a sideways manner, I suppose,” Haurchefant smiled a little. “But look here. If you don't want to do this, I am not about to push the issue.”

“I _want_ to,” Francel protested. “I just...”

“What set off the memory, then?”

“How do you know...?”

“I've seen my share of battle scars and old fears, Francel.” Haurchefant's smile faded. “When it's something inside a person's head, it doesn't matter how small it might seem to someone else – it's big enough to bother you, and that means it's a serious matter. And as I said, I _know_ what that man does to his victims. It's a shame that no one's been able to catch him in the act, or even the archbishop couldn't save him from justice.”

Francel shook his head. “I just...he used me. And he squeezed...there.”

“Okay.”

Francel looked up. “Okay?”

“It's simple enough, I just won't squeeze you that way. In fact...” The wicked smile was back, and Francel's mouth curved just a little to see it. “Tell you what. I'll ask first, and we'll just explore from there. How does that sound?”

Francel felt as if a band around his chest had been tightening as he spoke, but Haurchefant's words made that band of tension snap. He let out a long sigh. “That sounds...yes. I can handle that.”

“Then,” Haurchefant's hands slid across Francel's back as he leaned his head down, “may I kiss you, my lord?”

“You may,” and then Haurchefant's lips were on his and his tongue was slipping inside and all the bad memories went up like smoke from a summer bonfire.

Francel's hands skimmed across the velvet skin, fitfully. He'd been with women before, but not with a man. Oh, he'd played around once in a while, as a boy, in happier days when there were two moons in the sky and he and the sons of House Fortemps – though not Haurchefant – had spent long summer afternoons in the hot springs. Touching, exploring – but never really engaging in more than that.

Stroking Haurchefant wasn't like touching a woman. There was hard muscle in places that on a woman would be soft, yielding, and places of surprising softness, too.

Even a ticklish spot.

“Hey!” Haurchefant laughed a little, grabbing Francel's fingers. “Not so softly, if you please, my lord.”

Francel felt himself laughing, relaxing, and this time he initiated their kiss.

Haurchefant wasn't idle, either, slipping his hands beneath Francel's shirt and sliding the fabric off his shoulders. His thumbs made idle circles all over him, even as his fingers massaged and stroked, warming the skin they explored.

Francel imitated the motions, as best he could, but when his thumbs caressed Haurchefant's nipples, the older man pulled back with a small hiss, and a lopsided grin. “Sensitive,” he grunted.

But then he took Francel's hand and lifted it to his lips. He laid soft kisses against the palm, the wrist...the inside of his elbow. Francel watched, shivering a little.

“Good?” murmured Haurchefant against the skin.

“Yes,” Francel whispered. Then, again words fell from his lips that he would never have thought he'd say. “Bite there. Please.”

Haurchefant paused, and looked at him for a long moment, then slowly lowered his mouth again to the tender skin, just above the inside of the elbow. Delicately he set his teeth, and without his eyes leaving Francel's face, he sank them into the flesh, until the redheaded lord winced and sucked air through his teeth. He held the pressure for a moment more, then let go, and gently licked the tiny bruise he had left. Francel's breath shivered out of him, and his other hand fell to his pants, unpicking the laces with a swiftness born of need.

Haurchefant let him get his pants unfastened before he leaned in, pushing the younger man back into the pillows. His hand skimmed across the opening in the leather, feeling the silk of the small-clothes beneath and under that, the raging heat of Francel's erect cock.

“Shall I explore this, as well?” he asked softly.

Francel's eyes were damp. “Slowly...”

“Very slowly,” Haurchefant agreed. “Any time you say, I will stop. I promise.”

He turned his attention downward, and eased the leather away, as Francel lifted his hips to facilitate the motion. Dragging the pants off, Haurchefant tossed them to the floor, and skimmed his palms along Francel's thighs, pale and lean. His small-clothes were rose red, and the fabric was pulled taut by the cock inside that begged for release.

Haurchefant ran a single finger along the bottom of the shaft, and Francel shuddered, his eyes half closed, then tucked his thumbs into the waistband of the small-clothes and yanked them down.

Haurchefant spent a moment admiring the flesh thus exposed, and then his hand was back, delicately caressing, running his fingers through the curls at the base and then wrapping his long fingers easily around the shaft and pumping gently. He ran his thumb across the head and Francel groaned aloud.

“Do you like this?” Haurchefant asked him, his smile wicked again.

“Gods,” Francel groaned again. His chest heaved as he panted for breath, the marks his own nails had left on him shedding a few tiny drops of blood like splintered rubies onto the bed beneath him. “Haurchefant... _please_ do that again.”

“This?” Haurchefant rubbed the head of Francel's cock again, watching with satisfaction as the already engorged flesh went a deeper shade of red and twitched strongly in his hand.

“T-t-taste...me...” Francel managed to stutter.

Haurchefant smiled, and leaned down.

Francel's hands clutched at his head the instant his lips brushed the tip of that clamoring cock. Even as his tongue darted out to delicately lick, a salty pearl of fluid was appearing. Francel made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine, and bit his lip.

“Slowly,” Haurchefant murmured, and then fit his lips around the head of Francel's cock.

The younger man's hips thrust against him, but Haurchefant held him back easily, his hands pressing against the hip bones gently, maintaining full control of how fast he took Francel's cock into his mouth. Francel's hands knotted in his hair, making him wince just a little, but seeing the young lord's head thrown back, his throat exposed as he groaned again, more than made up for that minor discomfort.

By the time Haurchefant's lips met those tight, fox-colored curls at the base of his shaft, Francel was nearly coming undone already. He strained against Haurchefant, panting and softly whimpering deep in his throat.

Haurchefant rested there, letting the other man's body relax the tiniest bit. Then, still moving slowly, he began to gently bob his head up and down, adding the faintest of suction to the upward slide of his lips against the hot flesh. It wouldn't do to have Francel coming too soon, after all. The night was young.

But for all his care, the young lord was simply too pent-up to last long. He gave a sudden cry, his legs went stiff, his toes curled, and then without any more warning than that he was coming hard into Haurchefant's mouth, his hands gripping the silver hair with surprising strength, his hips bucking.

Haurchefant held on, swallowing, unfazed even though it was so sudden. When at last Francel fell still, he let the younger man's cock go, and lifted his head.

“Gods,” Francel was still breathing heavily. He had let go of Haurchefant's hair and thrown one arm across his face. “Gods,” he repeated.

“No gods needed, here,” Haurchefant chuckled quietly. “Just friends.”

“ _Friends!_ ” Francel seemed to bark the word, and he moved his arm to stare at Haurchefant. “This is just _friends_ , for you?”

“Indeed. I have a lot of friends,” the silver haired knight laughed, his shoulders lifting. “I don't feel the need to tie anyone down to me.”

Francel shook his head a little. “One _hell_ of a friend you are,” he sighed, falling back against the pillows again.

Haurchefant stretched a little, then kicked off his boots and eased out of his own pants. He crawled up the bed and lay on his side next to Francel, who cuddled into him, his arms curled against his chest and his forehead on Haurchefant's shoulder.

Haurchefant stroked the sweat damp hair away from Francel's forehead, and pressed a kiss to the skin there. “Hopefully,” he said, his voice full of quiet laughter, “a satisfactory lover as well.”

Francel grunted a little, and nodded. “I never...thought about it with a man before.”

“No shame there. Many don't.”

“What would you have done if I'd said no, anyway?”

“Gone home to Dragonhead,” Haurchefant said easily. “No harm done.”

“But you...surely you must need...”

Haurchefant rolled his hips a little, letting Francel feel the answer that half-spoken question.

“Need, yes,” he murmured, hugging the younger man's shoulders. “Rape, _never_.”

Francel didn't reply, but after a little while, Haurchefant felt hot tears on his shoulder.

He didn't say a word, only held Francel gently and let him weep until he fell still and quiet.

He was about to move, when Francel spoke.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Haurchefant asked, smiling.

“Well,” Francel huffed a little, and leaned back. “It would be rude for me to receive without also offering, would it not?”

Haurchefant laughed. “I'm willing enough. What would you like to do?”

Francel bit his lip. “Not...can I do to you, what you just did for me?”

“And why would I say no to such a pleasant offer as that?” Haurchefant asked rhetorically. “Please, do as you like. I promise I'll let you know how you're doing.” He laughed again, low and warm.

Francel uncurled a little, placing his hands flat against Haurchefant's chest. He leaned in, kissing Haurchefant's neck a little, then nipping very gently. Haurchefant stroked his back, and hummed, encouraging.

Francel's hands went straight for his cock, and Haurchefant hissed a little, but smiled.

“You don't wear _anything_ under those pants?” Francel murmured.

“Not when I have friends to visit,” Haurchefant managed to answer. This time it was Francel who laughed, low and wicked.

As his hands caressed, feeling out the shape of Haurchefant's erection, he swallowed nervously. “I don't know if I can...manage all that.”

“Well, you won't know until you try, eh?” Haurchefant brought a hand up, and stroked Francel's cheek. This close to him he could nearly count the pale freckles that dusted across his cheeks and nose, and see the flecks of dark blue scattered among the pale green of his eyes.

Haurchefant kissed him, nibbling at his bottom lip a little, and then tilted his own head up, showing his throat. Inviting.

Francel responded, pressing lips and teeth to the pulse thrumming just under the skin. Haurchefant purred.

As the younger man eased down the bed, Haurchefant shifted so that he was reclining against the headboard, positioning himself with one knee up, spreading a little for his partner and putting his head at an angle that would let him watch. As Francel inched closer, his lips now exploring Haurchefant's belly, a sudden, impish smile appeared on the silver haired knight's face.

He reached over with one long arm and snagged Francel's hat, and plunked it onto the younger man's head.

Francel glanced up. “What the?”

“Leave it on,” Haurchefant told him firmly. “I like it.”

“Well so do I, but...” Francel eyed Haurchefant with a puzzled frown.

“Leave the hat on, Francel.”

“Oh, very well.”

Haurchefant watched as Francel returned his attention to the thick, and by now very needy, cock in his hands.

“Take your time,” he murmured, shifting his hips to present himself to the mouth he now couldn't see. The brim of the hat blocked the view – but somehow it increased his excitement, to have to guess at what the man was doing.

The yellow feather shivered a little as Francel seemed to contemplate his first move. Haurchefant murmured in pleasure as he felt the tentative, hot touch of tongue against cock. His murmur turned to a purr as lips encircled the glans.

Then Francel's clever fingers cupped his balls, and he let out a groan as his toes curled a little. “Ah, that's very....” He panted a little. “Very good.”

The feather shivered and bounced a little, and then Francel began to take more of Haurchefant into his mouth. It was all the silver haired knight could do not to thrust up into the hot wetness, but he knew the poor fellow would choke if he went too fast.

As it was, he could feel when his cock hit Francel's gag reflex. The feather in his hat trembled violently. “It's all right, just relax,” Haurchefant reassured him. “Don't force it. Just...ah...”

Words failed him as Francel managed at last to take him completely. And then that feather, that delightful feather, began to _bounce_.

Haurchefant's hands knotted in the blankets as he struggled to control himself. He mustn't go too fast, he mustn't be too forceful. Not yet, not while Francel was learning him.

“F-F-Fury,” he panted harshly, his muscles knotting as Francel's mouth tightened.

The rhythm of the feather's jaunty bounce was mesmerizing. Francel seemed completely without mercy, keeping up the glorious torment as if Haurchefant's body and voice weren't begging him with increasing fervor for release.

When Haurchefant felt the tingling, tantalizing, tightening at the root of his cock, he groaned aloud. “Francel...I'm close...let go...”

In answer, Francel did _not_ let go. Instead he sucked harder, and Haurchefant lost control right then, hips bucking, teeth clenched, the cry that escaped him feeling as if it had been ripped from the darkest corner of his soul.

He came back to himself, still twitching, to see Francel looking up at him, licking lips gone dark pink from kisses and the friction of sucking with such dedication.

Haurchefant managed to grin, though he was still gasping for breath. “My my,” he panted. “You seem to be quite the natural at that.”

Francel's cheeks went pink, but he laughed as he crawled back up the bed and planted a kiss on Haurchefant's mouth.

“I'm as surprised as you are,” he chuckled.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired in part by conversations with the ever wonderful Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club!
> 
> Please come and join if you've a mind to do so!  
> https://discord.gg/8C6ZKTj


End file.
